


Salute Our Brothers

by Aerle



Series: Tumblr prompts [10]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Ficlet Collection, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2018-08-08 02:47:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 11,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7740466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aerle/pseuds/Aerle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of ficlets. Ratings vary. Title is from the song Under Jolly Roger by Santiano.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MyLadyDay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyLadyDay/gifts).



> Some prompts were previously posted in the collection What I've Done.
> 
> Prompt: Dancing queen (three sentence fic)

He wasn’t sure what to expect when Thatch had invited him over to watch him perform, but it sure as hell hadn’t been wide shirts with ruffles, tight pants and castanets - not that he was going to complain, especially about the second one - not to mention the twirling dresses of the dancers around his friend that made Izo’s mouth water.

Still, how was he supposed to have known that Thatch was a Flamenco-dancer and - much to his shock - a very good one at that?

The guitar music sped up, and Thatch passed Izo on the dance floor, grinning broadly and not missing a beat on his castanets.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Awkward morning after (three sentence fic)

Awkward would be an understatement to describe the situation they were in now, as they lied next to each other in Izo’s bed, both naked and hung-over. They were friends, brothers, but after they drunk encounter the previous night it would be hard to call each other the latter.

"So," Thatch said, scratching the back of his head, "now that our relationship and illusions are ruined anyway, you want to go again?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Wanna bet?" (distinguished food critic and fast food chef au)

The corners of Izo’s mouth pulled down in a disapproving manner as he looked at the small restaurant in front of him. Well, you could hardly call it a restaurant, now could you, if they only sold ‘food’ that was swimming in grease.

Izo suppressed a shudder. He couldn’t believe he had let Ace talk him into going here. He, a distinguished food critic, whose opinion made or broke restaurants and who had made many owners cry, either tears from joy or devastation, usually the latter.

Yet Ace swore that this place sold the best hamburgers in town. Now, Ace wasn’t the pickiest eater, as Izo had seen him eat food he himself couldn’t keep down, but Marco had agreed with him on this. Again, Marco wasn’t a critic either, but at least he tasted the food before he swallowed.

So, for some reason Izo had let himself be talked into going to the place.

There had to be at least some truth to Ace’s claim, as there was a line of people waiting outside of the place. Izo wasn’t one for waiting, though, and he barged into the restaurant, ignoring the protests of the people waiting.

“Heya!” a man greeted him. He must be one of the ‘cooks’, as he was wearing an apron covered in grease stains. “I think you missed the line out there.”

“Don’t you know who I am?” Izo asked haughtily.

The man shrugged.

Izo rolled his eyes. “Of course you don’t.”

“Listen, buddy, even if you were the queen of England, you’d still have to wait in line.” The man crossed his arms before his chest.

“And you should wear a hairnet,” Izo replied. He eyed the man’s pompadour hairstyle in disdain.

“What, you’re health inspection or something?” The man cocked his head to the side. “Anyway, I’m not in the kitchen, so I don’t need a hairnet. But you _need_ to get in line.”

Izo huffed, but did as he was told anyway, casting deadly looks to everyone who dared to smirk smugly at him. This was so not worthy his time, but if he didn’t do it now, Ace would make him go another time, or worse, he would drag Izo there himself. Izo didn’t understand how Marco could stand Ace’s eating habits.

After what seemed like forever, Izo made it inside the restaurant, and a waiter showed him to the only free seat, which was at the bar.

Izo had never been this insulted in his life. Usually, he immediately got a seat, even if people had been sitting there before, and the owner themselves served him hand and foot. He had never been placed at the _bar_.

“Hey again,” the man who had greeted him the first time said cheerfully. Either he didn’t remember Izo anymore, or he didn’t hold a grudge. “What can I get ya?”

Izo eyed the menu with slight disgust. “Oh, I don’t know. Something edible?”

The man didn’t look the least bit offended. “You don’t come here often, do you?”

“And why would I?”

The man leaned with his elbows on the bar. “Then why are you here now?”

“It’s not voluntarily, I can assure you.” Izo looked up from the menu. “A friend of mine insisted that I went.”

“Tell your friend thanks, then.” The man grinned broadly, like that was the highest compliment he could get. “May I ask who?”

“His name is Ace.” Izo picked up the menu again in a vain attempt to find anything he would like. “Apparently, these are the best burgers he has ever had. I don’t see how he would know, though, since he has never heard of chewing.”

The man laughed. “Oh, I know him! Great customer. I’m surprised you would be friends with him, though.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Izo asked, insulted.

The man held up his hands defensively. “I didn’t mean anything by it. You just seem like the type that belongs in high society, and he doesn’t.”

“If you must know, I’m very open minded about people, and Ace is very likable. It’s just food I’m critical about, as it is my job,” Izo replied haughtily.

“Oh, now I know who you are! You’re that critic who makes all the owners cry!” the man called out and held out his hand. “I’m Thatch, the owner of this place.”

“You know who I am, yet you introduce yourself?” Izo asked as he carefully took Thatch’s hand.

He shrugged. “You should know who you’re about to make cry, right? Though, I should warn you, I don’t cry easily. Anyway, how about I make you something special that’ll knock your socks off?”

Izo rolled his eyes. “I doubt you’ll impress me.”

“Wanna bet?” Thatch grinned. “If you like what I serve you, you give me a good review and don’t try to make me cry. If you don’t, your friend eats here for free for a month.”

Izo raised his eyebrow. “What does that have to do with me?”

Thatch shrugged. “I don’t know, you seem like the type who’s happy when his friends are. Besides, the way your friend eats will bankrupt me before the month is over, so then you’ll have your way.”

Izo smiled and held out his hand. “Deal. Though, you must be every confident about your cooking to make such a wager.”

Thatch just grinned and disappeared to the kitchen.

Izo sipped from the water that had been placed in front of him as he waited. He had to hand it to Thatch, he was an interesting character. Izo was surprised to realise that he actually hoped Thatch’s cooking was as good as he claimed, so Izo would have an excuse to come here more often. If he ruined Thatch’s business by disliking the food, Thatch would probably be less inclined to spend more time with Izo.

Izo wondered why he cared.

Finally, Thatch emerged from the kitchen again, a hairnet around his hair and carrying a plate with a hamburger on it. “Bon appetit,” he said as he placed the plate in front of Izo.

Izo raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

“Just give it a try.” Thatch took off the hairnet and leaned against the wall across from Izo.

Izo stared at the hamburger for a while, trying to figure out what would be the best way to eat it. Eventually, he decided there was none, and just grabbed the burger with both hands. He eyed Thatch for a second, who was still grinning, before he sunk his teeth into the burger.

His eyes widened.

Thatch grinned as he handed Izo a napkin to wipe his mouth and hands, which Izo took gratefully.

He swallowed the bite he had taken and betted his mouth, slightly embarrassed for the mess he had made. When he was done, he looked at Thatch, who was looking at him expectantly. “Alright, I admit it,” he said, “this must be the best thing I have eaten in a long time. You’ll get your review.”

Thatch grinned again. He didn’t even look triumphantly, rather, he seemed genuinely happy with Izo’s words. “That’s great! Enjoy the rest. I should probably head back into the kitchen. Don’t worry, I’ll wear this.” He held up the hairnet.

Izo couldn’t suppress a smile.

Thatch smiled before he headed towards the kitchen. At the door, he hesitated and turned back to Izo, who had just taken another bite. Thatch scratched the back of his head, almost looking shy. “You know, it’s usually more quiet right before closing time, if you’d like a chat.”

Izo’s lips curled into a smile. “Once I tell Ace he was right, I don’t doubt I’ll be dragged here more often. But perhaps I’ll take you up on your offer.”

Thatch grinned happily before disappearing.

Izo smiled as well and grabbed his hamburger. He would definitely come here again, and not just for the amazing food.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation from the previous chapter

“You liked it!” Ace all but screamed into his face in greeting.

Izo couldn’t help but smile despite being sprayed. He hadn’t told Ace that he had eaten at Thatch’s place, but as promised, he had written a review, even if it wasn’t the kind of place he – and probably his readers – would normally go to. The editor of the paper had been doubtful about publishing the article, but in the end, Izo had managed to persuade him.

“I told you you would,” Ace added smugly, and added with sparkling eyes, “Now we can eat there!”

Before Izo could protest, he was dragged off by an overenthusiastic Ace, and followed by a chuckling Marco.

It was a little before closing time, and as Thatch had said, it was a bit quieter, though the place was still mostly full. There was only one table free, with two chairs, and it was immediately claimed by Marco and Ace. Izo was forced to sit at the bar again, but at least they were close enough that they could talk if Izo turned around.

Thatch emerged from the kitchen soon after they had sat down. “If it isn’t my favourite customers!” he greeted them cheerfully. “The usual?” he asked Ace.

Ace grinned broadly. “You know it.”

Marco ordered as well, and finally, Thatch turned to Izo. “What would you like?”

Izo’s lips curled into a smile. “Surprise me.”

Thatch grinned excitedly and returned to the kitchen.

“He’s great, right?” Ace said to Izo.

Izo shrugged. “Sure, I guess.”

“You’d make a great couple.”

Izo almost choked on his water. “E-excuse me?”

Marco kicked Ace under the table and gave him a warning look.

“What?” Ace asked. “You agreed with m– Ouch!” He had received another kick.

Izo rolled his eyes. “I don’t need to be set up with anyone, thank you very much. And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t talk about me behind my back.”

“Sorry, we just thought you’d like each other. You’ve been kinda grumpy lately,” Ace said as he rubbed his painful shin. “And you made more people cry than usual.”

Izo sighed. “Then they should serve me edible food. Really, Ace, I’m fine. Besides, I doubt we have much in common.”

“Unlike me and Marco, who could be identical twins,” Ace said sarcastically. “The opposite attracts, you know.”

“You both work with food,” Marco mixed into the conversation.

Izo gave him a deadpanned look, and he held up his hands defensively.

“Exactly! And you like his! Come on, Izo, I’m right about this!”

Izo sighed. “Just drop it, Ace.”

Ace pouted, but did drop the subject. He seemed to forget about the conversation completely when his food arrived.

Izo smiled at Thatch when a plate was placed in front of him a few minutes later.

Thatch smiled back, but instead of going to the kitchen, he lingered a little.

Izo assumed he wanted to see his reaction, so he took the burger in both hands and took a bite. Thatch smiled pleased when his face lit up, but he still didn’t go back to the kitchen. Instead, he fussed a little behind the bar, cleaning up and placing things several inches to the right, because apparently, that made more sense.

Izo was slightly surprised at his behaviour, but he was too engrossed in his food to pay much attention.

As he wiped his hands and face clean and chewed the last of his food, Thatch took a step closer. “Ehm, it’s Izo, right? Can I call you that?”

Izo swallowed his bite and nodded. “Of course.”

Thatch seemed suddenly a little nervous and scratched the back of his head. “I was just wondering if you’d maybe like to go out with me some time.”

Izo raised his eyebrow, his hamburger forgotten. “Did Ace put you up to this?”

“No, why?” Thatch seemed genuinely confused.

Izo sighed. “Because he thinks I’m grumpy, just because I’m picky about what I put in my mouth.”

“Oh yeah, you totally should be,” Thatch said with a serious face.

From behind him, Izo could hear snickers, and he turned around to Ace and Marco, who both tried to hide their laughter. “What?”

“Nothing,” Ace squeaked, but immediately doubled over with laughter.

Realisation suddenly hit Izo, and he rolled his eyes. “Oh, get your mind out of the gutter! I’d expect this of Ace, but I’m disappointed in you, Marco.”

Marco tried to cover his laughter up by coughing, failing miserably. “I’m sorry,” he said as he wiped the tears from his eyes.

Izo huffed and turned back to his food.

“You didn’t answer my question, though,” Thatch said. The tips of his ears had turned red.

Izo hesitated and looked over his shoulder.

Ace had finally calmed down and jumped up. “You totally should, Izo! Come on, it’ll be fun!”

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” Thatch hastily said. “Really.”

“Ace, you can’t force him to go,” Marco said strictly as he took out his wallet to pay the bill.

“Of course I can,” Ace said indignantly. “Come on, Izo! We could double date if you’re nervous.”

“No, really, it’s fine. Forget I asked,” Thatch said.

“Stop it, Ace,” Marco said sternly and pulled his boyfriend with him by his ear, ignoring his whining. “You can have another burger if you behave. Sorry, Izo.”

Izo watched his friends leave through the front door before turning back to his now empty plate.

“I’m sorry about that,” Thatch said with a sigh. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything.”

“I know.” Izo took a sip from his drink. “So what did you say about a date?” he asked when he had swallowed.

Confusedly, Thatch turned to him. “I thought you didn’t want to.”

“I never said I didn’t. Besides, I can’t have Ace think he’s a good matchmaker. I wouldn’t hear the end of it.” Izo grinned.

Thatch looked at him stunned for a moment, but then he grinned as well. “I’m just about to close, if you have time.”

“Sure. Just give me a sec.” When Thatch nodded, Izo walked out of the now nearly abandoned restaurant. As expected, Marco and Ace were waiting for him outside.

“I’m sorry, Izo,” Ace immediately said and bowed. His politeness never ceased to amaze Izo. “I didn’t mean to be so pushy.”

“It’s okay, Ace, I know you meant well.”

“I did, but still, it wasn’t right. How about we go to the movies, as an apology? My treat,” Ace said.

“By which he means _my_ treat, because _someone_ forgot their wallet.” Marco sighed.

Ace smiled sheepishly.

“Actually, you go on without me. I have other plans.” Izo smiled mysteriously at their confused faces. “Don’t wait up,” he added with a wink, and enjoyed the flabbergasted looks he received when he entered the restaurant again just as Thatch turned the sign from open to closed.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of the previous two chapters

Finally Thatch had managed to get all of the other cooks out of the door, though that didn’t go without teasing remarks and kissing noises.

Izo chuckled when Thatch leaned against the now closed door and sighed.

“Sorry about that.”

Izo sat down in one of the booths. This was the first time he saw the restaurant empty. It was tastefully decorated, giving it a cosy atmosphere, something he hadn’t noticed before.  

Thatch placed a glass of wine in front of him, a fancier kind than he had expected in a place like this, but then again, he was soon learning that nothing about this establishment was as it seemed, including its owner.

“Do you often stay later than everyone else?” Izo asked as he took a sip.

Thatch chuckled. “Are you asking if I often ask people to stay here with me?”

Izo flushed slightly, but quickly recovered. “It’s just that your chefs didn’t seem surprised you sent them home before you left.”

“I do usually stay later than the others, to make some preparations for tomorrow. I live in the apartment above this place, so it doesn’t take long to go home,” Thatch explained.

“What kind of preparations?” Izo asked curiously.

“Well, I try to work with ingredients as fresh as possible, but I usually prepare the dough for the buns the night before.”

Izo smiled and leaned with his head on his hand. “It’s no wonder your restaurant is so popular.”

“I’m glad I changed you mind,” Thatch said with a grin. “Thanks to your review, I got even more customers. If this continues, I can open another place.”

“That’s great!” But then the smile disappeared from his face. “Wait, that’s not why you asked me out, though?”

“Of course not.” Thatch placed his hand on Izo’s and smiled sheepishly. “I just couldn’t get you out of my head ever since you waltzed in here like you owned the place. Which you don’t because I do, but…”

Izo chuckled and looked at their joined hands.

Thatch hastily pulled his back. “Sorry.”

Izo just smiled.

They talked until the wine was long gone, when Thatch said, “I probably should start at the dough. If you’d like, you could maybe stay?”

It sounded more like a question than a suggestion, and Izo had to chuckle. Thatch was rather cute when he got all shy like that. “Sure. Don’t think I’ll be much help, though.”

“Why’s that?” Thatch asked as he showed Izo to the kitchen.

“Let’s just say that if I were a cook, I would have made myself cry a long time ago,” Izo said. “I don’t cook, I just judge others on their cooking.”

“Well, we should really change that.” Thatch mixed the ingredients for the dough. “Here, you do the kneading.”

Izo hesitated.

“Come on, it’s not hard. You might wanna wash your hands first, though.”

Izo did as he was told and then walked over to Thatch.

Thatch smiled at him encouragingly and stepped aside so Izo could reach the bowl.

Izo rolled up his sleeves and stuck his hands into the dough. It felt weird, but not unpleasant.

“That’s good,” Thatch complimented him, “but you could put a little more back into it. Here.” He stood behind Izo and placed his hands in the bowl as well as he showed Izo how it was done.

Izo chuckled and turned around, still pinned between Thatch and the counter. “You’re a great teacher,” he said and wrapped his arms around Thatch’s neck, careful not to touch him with his still doughy hands.

“I doubt I am, ‘cause I can’t seem to have keep my student paying attention,” Thatch replied.

“Oh, I’m paying attention alright.” Izo leaned in and kissed Thatch’s lips.

Thatch wiped his hands on his apron without breaking the kiss and gently pushed Izo back on the counter.

They were entangled like that for a while, before Thatch seemed to realise what they were doing and pulled back, his cheeks flushed. “That’s… kinda unhygienic. The place, not the action,” he hastily added as he helped Izo down.

There had been flour all over the counter, which was now sticking to Izo’s clothes.

“Shit,” Thatch murmured and started to dust Izo off, until he realised that by doing so, he was also patting Izo’s ass. Hastily, he stopped his action. “Sorry.”

Izo chuckled. “That’s fine. I can wash them.”

Thatch put the dough away and sighed. “This is not really how a first date is supposed to go, is it?”

“Perhaps not.” Izo walked up to him and wrapped his arms around his neck again. “But I definitely want to repeat it.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Mob boss Izo meets veterinarian Thatch

Everyone in the waiting room became silent when he entered, his eyes cold as he scanned them. His bodyguards were standing behind him, though Izo knew that people would cower before him even if they hadn’t accompanied him. Everyone knew the face of the most feared Mafia boss in the city.

The Yorkshire terrier on his arm trembled slightly, and he had trouble not to whisper soft words in its ear. He had an image to maintain after all.

“Mr Snuggles?” the receptionist called, and Izo cleared his throat in embarrassment. There went his image. Whatever, even with a Yorkie called Mr Snuggles, no one dared to make fun of him.

His nose in the air, he walked towards the door the receptionist pointed out to him, his dog on his arm. In the room, a man was standing, the veterinarian, no doubt, his back turned to Izo. With a snapping sound, he put on his gloves. “Well, let’s see what we have here,” he said while turning around.

His eyes widened at seeing Izo, and for a second Izo thought the vet had recognised him. But then the man started to talk.

“Who is this gorgeous creature?” He held out his hands.

“His name is Mr Snuggles,” Izo said as he handed over his dog, pretending he wasn’t embarrassed.

“A fitting name,” the vet agreed. “I’m Thatch, and I’ll be your vet for today” he introduced himself to the dog. “Well, what’s wrong with you, little guy?”

Despite the fact that he was talking to the dog, Izo decided to answer. “He is limping.”

“Well, let’s see what’s causing that, shall we, Mr Snuggles?” Thatch had his head on eyelevel with the dog and made a face when he was licked, but then started laughing.

Izo wondered if this guy was serious. He was the most ridiculous vet Izo had ever met. But when he saw Thatch handling his dog, he started to be glad he was the vet. Thatch was gentle with Mr Snuggles as he checked his paws, murmuring soothing words as he worked. “Aha!” he suddenly exclaimed and turned around to look for something.

“Why? What is it?” Izo asked worriedly, but Thatch flashed him a grin that made his heart skip a beat.

“Don’t worry, it’s just a splinter.” He retrieved special magnifying glasses that made his eyes look huge – and quite ridiculous – and a pair of tweezers. As he had promised, he pulled out the splinter within seconds. He then sterilised the wound and put a bandage around the leg to prevent dirt from coming in the wound. “There we go. You’re a very brave dog. And very pretty. But well, I guess it’s true what they say about dogs looking like their owners.” He shot Izo another grin.

Izo was stunned. Did Thatch even know who was in front of him? He could make and break a man with a flick of his wrist! But somehow, he knew that even if Thatch knew that, he wouldn’t care. A smile tugged at his lips. This was a new, but interesting development.

“Thank you,” he said as Thatch handed him back Mr Snuggles, his touch lingering for a second longer than necessary.

“Anytime,” Thatch said with a grin. Then he scratched the back of his head. “I er… could come check on him in a couple of days. To see how he is doing.”

Izo had to smile. Somehow, he didn’t think Thatch made house calls often, but he was definitely going to take him up on the offer. He handed Thatch his card. “Agreed. You’re the first vet Mr Snuggles hasn’t bitten. I, on the other hand, can’t make that same promise.” Smiling at Thatch’s stunned face, he turned around to leave the room. Somehow, he had the feeling he would see a lot more of Thatch in the future, and it wouldn’t have to do with Mr Snuggles’ health.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for my rare-pair exchange with Myladyday
> 
> Prompt: police officer and vigilante
> 
> Warnings: mentions of drugs and weapons

The police station was quiet at this time of night, as even the most notorious workaholics had gone home. The only people present were those unfortunate enough to have the nightshift. Thatch usually didn’t stay this late, as he was often the one trying to drag Marco home, but tonight was different.

He was working on a case involving arms dealing, drugs, and other illegal trade. It was a big case, so of course he wasn’t the only one working it, but he believed that the answer was right in front of their noses. Thatch was so close to cracking the case he could almost taste it. The only problem was, he was fairly certain that there was a cop involved. One couldn’t go around spewing such accusations without proof, so that was what Thatch was looking for.

Unfortunately, as of yet, he hadn’t found any, and as much as he relied on his gut feeling, he couldn’t point a finger at anyone yet. He hadn’t even shared his suspicions with Marco, as Thatch knew he would he would be reluctant to believe that one of their own was dirty, no matter how much he trusted Thatch’s gut.

The paper trail Thatch was pursuing was leading him nowhere, and eventually he had to admit that he had hit a dead end. He was tired and had probably already had too much coffee anyway, so he decided to call it a day. Greeting his co-workers, Thatch pressed the door to the elevator, whistling as not to raise suspicion. Usually, he was cheerful, but not tonight. Not when his family was threatened.

Thatch lived close to the police station, so he never bothered to take the car. The chilly night air did him a world of good after being cooped up all day inside, and he decided to take a detour through the park.

A street light blinked, and Thatch slowed his pace, suddenly feeling like someone was following him. He looked over his shoulder, but there was no one to be seen. Thatch shook his head to wake himself up and continued walking. He had been working too hard. It made him see things.

A twig snapped, and Thatch whipped around, but again, there was nobody there. Starting to feel nervous, Thatch quickened his pace. The sound of footsteps could be heard, growing louder by the second, and Thatch reached for his weapon. Before he could confront his assailant, however, something hard hit his head, and he collapsed.

The world spun around him when he tried to get up again, and he took a few shaky breaths and blinked a couple of times to get rid of the black spots dancing in front of his vision. Placing his hands on the ground to push himself up, Thatch tried to scramble to his feet, but suddenly, there was something on his shoulder holding him down.

“I wouldn’t do that.”

The voice was familiar, and Thatch’s eyes widened. He had hoped so badly that he wasn’t right about there being a dirty cop amongst them, but even if there had been, he hadn’t expected to go down like this.

Swallowing hard, he looked up at his assailant. Teach took a step back, a gun aiming at Thatch’s head. “You shouldn’t have put your nose where it didn’t belong,” he said. “Everything was going so well. The cops weren’t even considering things happening right under their noses. But then you came along and ruined it.”

Thatch remained silent, slowly putting up his hands. His heart was racing in his chest as he stared at his former friend. He had never considered Teach to be dirty. Hell, he hadn’t considered anyone, not until he had proof. Teach threatening to kill him, however, counted as proof.

“I never thought you would be the one to catch wind of it. Marco, sure, Ace even. But not you. You like everyone, especially your precious family.” Teach spat out the last word as if he hadn’t been treated with the same love and respect as everyone else. As if he hadn’t belonged to that same family. Pops, their chief, would be heartbroken when he found out Teach had betrayed them.

“If you kill me, every cop in town will be after you,” Thatch said, sounding much calmer than he felt. He was still sitting on his knees. “You won’t get away with this.”

“Let me worry about that, why don’t you,” Teach said with a grin and cocked his pistol.

Thatch closed his eyes.

There was a sudden gush of wind and a yelp came from Teach. The gun he had been holding was lying on the ground, a few meters away from Thatch. Wide-eyed, Thatch stared at a figure clad in all black who was currently beating the crap out of Teach. Teach might be fat, but he was a well trained police officer, yet he wasn’t able to throw even one punch.

Finally shaking himself from his awe, Thatch crawled towards the gun and picked it up, pointing it at Teach. “Get down on your knees!” he shouted, louder than necessary to calm his nerves.

The stranger stopped pummelling Teach and took a step back so he could do as he was told.

“You’re under arrest for assaulting a police officer,” Thatch said. “That, and illegal arms dealing, drugs and…” A sudden wave of dizziness hit him, and he staggered, but then he felt someone supporting him. It was the stranger, their face suddenly close to Thatch’s.

“T-thank you,” Thatch stammered as he turned his head slightly. He couldn’t see the person’s face, as it was covered by a mask, but his lips curled into a smile.

“You’re welcome.” The voice was deeper than he had expected.

Teach took the opportunity to try to attack again, but in the blink of an eye, the stranger was upon him again, kicking him hard in the head. Teach went down like a sack of potatoes.

“Don’t worry, he’ll be fine,” the stranger said when he saw Thatch’s shocked face. “But it gives you time to cuff him and call for backup.”

“Wait!” Thatch called when they turned to leave. “Who are you?”

“Just a concerned citizen,” the stranger said with a small smile.

“Will I…” Thatch hesitated. “Will I see you again?”

“Whenever you need me,” the stranger placed his hand against Thatch’s cheek and caressed it, “just call me.” With that, he disappeared into the night, leaving Thatch stunned behind.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another exchange with MyLadyDay
> 
> Prompt: Flowershop AU

The bell above the door chimed, and Thatch put his broom against the wall to help his customer. What he hadn’t expected was this person to be the most dashing man he had ever seen. His long black hair pinned up, he strode to the counter with confident steps, and Thatch hastened himself to join him.

“How may I help you?” he asked in his most friendly voice.

“You should pay attention, because I have a very specific order,” his customer spoke, anger hidden in his voice, though it was not directed at Thatch. “I need a bouquet containing,” he counted on his fingers, “red geraniums, foxglove, meadowsweet, yellow carnations and orange lilies. And asphodel if you have it.”

Thatch blinked as he wrote it down. Usually, his customers were more interested in how the bouquet would look than what exact flowers were used. Still, he would gladly make a bouquet out of the ordered flowers. “Sure,” he said. “I don’t think I have them all right now, so I’ll have to order them though.”

His customer sighed and leaned against the counter. “Yeah, I was afraid of that. How long will it take?”

“A few days,” Thatch said, still staring at the list in his hand and wondering why these specific flowers. “If you need something right away, feel free to look around if there’s anything you like.”

“No, I’m sorry, but it have to be these flowers.” The man tapped with his fingers on the counter.

“Why?” Thatch chanced to ask.

“Because I need to tell someone ‘fuck you’. Oh, I’ll need a card saying that too.”

Thatch burst into laughter. “You’d go to all that trouble to tell someone off? Why not just say it to their face?”

“Where is the elegance in that?” The man smiled at him, and Thatch had to agree with him. This was a much more subtle way to tell someone you hated them, and more passive-aggressive. If someone wanted to tell him that, he would prefer to have it said with flowers.

“Alright, if you give me the address, I can have the bouquet delivered to them in about three days,” Thatch said. “Would that be alright?”

The lips of his customer curled into a smile, causing Thatch’s heart to skip a beat. “That should be fine.”

* * *

Over the next few weeks, the man, of whom Thatch soon learned the name was Izo, came into his store a lot, always with a very specific bouquet in mind. Some were, like the first one, passive-aggressive expressions of hatred, but most contained other flowers.

Thatch had never studied the meaning of flowers, holding the opinion, like most other people, that flowers just had to be pretty, but ever since Izo started ordering flowers, Thatch found himself wanting to know what they meant. He had made bouquets made for grieving, as declarations of friendship, apologies or wishes for a speedy recovery. What he hadn’t seen, however, which was any declaration of love, which gave him hope that Izo might be single. Izo seemed to say everything with flowers, so it would make sense that he would give his partner flowers as well, right?

Thatch wasn’t going to admit it out loud, but Izo’s visits always made his day. Thatch always looked forward to it, and not just because he could find out some new meanings behind flowers. He was starting to like Izo, but he hadn’t yet found the courage to ask him out. He had looked up some flowers that would have a meaning in that direction, but Izo would immediately know what they meant and if he didn’t feel the same, Thatch was afraid Izo would find another florist.

The bell above the door chimed, announcing a visitor, and Thatch was pulled from his musings. His face almost split in half because of the grin when he saw Izo enter. Izo smiled back.

“So, another ‘fuck you’ today?” Thatch asked cheerfully. Ever since Izo started to come by, he was much better stocked than before.

But Izo shook his head. “Not this time.”

“An apology then? Or a declaration of love?” Thatch asked carefully.

Izo smiled. “Something like that. I need jonquils, white clover, tulips– Are you writing this down?”

Thatch hastily nodded and tried to ignore the feeling of his stomach turning. He had waited too long with asking Izo out and now he was too late. While he didn’t know the meaning behind all the flowers Izo mentioned, he knew the tulip one, as he had been considered giving Izo one. It was a declaration of love.

“So, who’s the lucky person?” he asked. Talking was difficult, as if felt like his throat was squeezed tight. He knew he had no reason to feel like this, but it still hurt a little.

Izo smiled mysteriously. “Could you make it right away? I want to hand this one over in person.”

Thatch smiled wryly. “I can understand. Just a sec.” Taking a deep breath, he started collecting the flowers Izo asked for and made them into a bouquet. He resisted the urge to rushed through it and managed to make a beautiful bouquet. “There,” he said, handing the flowers to Izo. “Let me know how it goes.”

Izo looked at the flowers and smelled them, before smiling and pressing them in Thatch’s hands.

Stunned, Thatch looked at Izo. “But…” Then a smile broke through on his face. Placing the flowers gently on the counter, he turned to his flowers and searched between them until he had found a poinsettia. Proudly, he handed it over to Izo, who smiled in reply.

“I would be even more cheerful,” Izo said, nodding at the poinsettia and referring to its meaning, “if you would agree to go out with me tonight.” With a smile he added, “A simple yes or no will suffice this time.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: spy AU
> 
> Part 3 of my exchange with MyLadyDay

Standing in the doorway, Izo let his eyes slide across the room. He was supposed to meet his partner in this rundown café, but he had no idea what they looked like. There were a few people who fit the profile, sitting alone in a booth, looking completely inconspicuous and busy with their own thing.

The longer he stood there, however, the more attention he drew to himself, which was the exact opposite of what he wanted. He had to make a quick decision.

His eye fell on a guy who was looking the most suspicious of everyone present, holding the newspaper he was ‘reading’ up high instead of putting it on the table. Really, Izo was surprised he hadn’t cut holes into it. In any case, it seemed he had found his partner – though hopefully he would be a better in spying than in surveilling.

Izo slid into his booth and eyed around to see if anyone was paying attention to him. When that didn’t seem to be the case, Izo turned to his partner, who didn’t seem to have noticed Izo joining him or was ignoring him.

“The carrots are done,” he said as casually as possible, just in case he was talking to the wrong person after all.

The paper was lowered, and Izo was met with a slightly surprised looking man, sporting a pompadour hairstyle. Not exactly the best way to blend in, but Izo wasn’t here to judge.

“Eh, I hope they aren’t burned,” the man replied.

Relieved, Izo recognised the other half of the code, so he knew he had found his partner. “Good,” he said and moved out of the booth. “Come on, we have work to do.”

The man followed him after having placed some money on the table to pay for his coffee and followed Izo out of the café, his paper under his arm.

* * *

Marco sighed and looked on his watch. His partner had to have been here already, yet no one had said the first half of the code to him yet, and he had been sitting in this rundown café for an hour already.

“Hi, are you ready to order?” a cheery voice said next to him, and when Marco looked up at his dark haired, freckled waiter, he suddenly cared a little less about his mission.

* * *

“Ah,” the man suddenly said to Izo, holding out his hand, “I’m–”

“The less I know about you, the better,” Izo replied. In case they got caught, it was better that they didn’t have anything to reveal during an interrogation or even under torture, than if they had. “You should know that.”

“But what do I call you then?” the man asked, a hint of a whine in his voice.

Izo rolled his eyes. “Fine, I’m Izo. You must be new.”

“Thatch.” He smiled happily as he walked along. “So where are we going?”

“Haven’t you been informed?” Izo asked surprised. Considering Thatch had been at the right place at the right time, knowing the other half of the code, _someone_ had to have told him _something_. Or was it Izo’s task to inform him?

Thatch just shrugged.

Izo sighed and beckoned him into an alleyway, looking around to see if anyone was close by. “Look,” he said, “this is a very important mission, so I can’t believe they sent a new guy, buy here goes.” Before he could explain the mission, though, someone walked past, and to look inconspicuous, Izo hurled Thatch forward by his shirt until their lips met. It was only supposed to last until the coast was clear, but Thatch didn’t seem to get that and continued kissing Izo. Izo found himself oddly enjoying it, but eventually he pulled himself together and pushed Thatch away.

“We don’t have time for that. Come on, we have work to do.” He started walking again, stopping when Thatch didn’t follow him.

“Ehm, yeah, what kind of work again?” he asked.

Realisation hit Izo like a bucket of cold water and his face fell. “You’re not the person I was supposed to meet, are you?”

Thatch shrugged. “I was just reading the paper.”

“Then why did you go with me?!” Izo exclaimed. He was feeling frustrated, but most of all he was feeling stupid for picking the wrong person. He was a seasoned spy, for crying out loud! How could he have made such a rookie mistake?

Thatch shrugged again. “You were pretty and told me to come with you.” He smiled sheepishly, and Izo resisted the urge to smack his hand against his forehead.

“For crying out loud!” he muttered. “I have to get back to find my actual partner. Never go with strangers, dammit!” He was about to disappear, when he changed his mind and pressed a note with his phone number in Thatch’s hand. “Call me.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for my rare-pair fic exchange with MyLadyDay
> 
> Prompt: Bodyguard AU

Lights were flashing as the music boomed through the hall, but Izo remained focused as always. As head of security, it was his task not to get distracted and keep the fan at bay. The other bodyguards were enormous guys, but Izo was certainly not someone to mess with, even if Thatch’s fanbase consisted mostly of middle aged ladies.

Thatch’s hips swayed in time with the music as he sang ‘Hound Dog’ like he had many times before, yet his moves never failed to mesmerise Izo. Thatch was the best Elvis impersonator around, and his shows were always sold out. Of course, these weren’t the fifties anymore, so Thatch could wiggle his hips all he wanted – or rather, all his fans wanted him to – without controversy.

The ladies loved him, and from the corner of his eye, Izo spotted trouble. He gestured towards one of the bodyguards, who managed to intercept the woman before she managed to climb on the stage.

Izo liked Elvis’ music – he would have to, since Thatch couldn’t add much to his repertoire as Elvis was no more – but he had not expected to end up being an impersonator’s bodyguard. Or a bodyguard at all. Still, he was a damn good one, having a black belt in several martial arts, even is he wasn’t as broad as his fellow bodyguards.

He had been hired by pure luck, just because he happened to beat the crap out of someone who had been harassing a girl and Thatch had been nearby. In public, he didn’t look much like Elvis, having brown hair instead of black, so must people didn’t recognise him then. It was during shows he needed protection, so that was Izo provided – and sometimes after, but that was of another nature.

The music died down, and Thatch ended the show with his characteristic “Thank you. Thank you very much,” before leaving the stage. That was Izo’s cue to follow him, leaving the keeping at bay of the fans to the heavily built bodyguards.

He slipped into Thatch’s dressing room, where he could hear water running. Thatch was holding his head under the tap to wash out the black dye. He never used permanent dye, and is Izo was honest, he liked Thatch’s brown hair better. It was more like him and less like Elvis.

Izo sat down on the couch and waited for Thatch to join him, a towel around his shoulders and his hair wet. “You were great tonight.”

“Really? I couldn’t hear because of all the screaming,” Thatch joked, before heaving a deep sigh. He looked tired.

“Do you want to stay here, or do you want me to get you to the limousine so we can go home?” Izo had long ago given up calling it Thatch’s home, since he had semi-permanently moved in. One never knew when one needed a bodyguard after all.

Thatch smiled tiredly. “Get me out of here.”

Izo helped him to get up and waited until Thatch had pulled a woolly cap over his head – to keep the illusion that his hair was really black in case there were fans at the backdoor, which was likely – before opening the door. He nodded at the two bodyguards who stood by the door. They left to clear the path for Thatch.

Izo took Thatch’s hand and gently pulled him along. The back door was sound proof, but once it was opened, they were met with screaming fans and grabby hands. Izo shoved anyone who got in his way roughly aside as he piloted Thatch through the mass. The other bodyguards kept most fans at bay, but sometimes one slipped through and Izo had to take care of them. He rarely used his martial art skills, but he would if he had to.

Opening the limousine door, he shoved Thatch inside before diving after him. Only once they were safely on the road, Thatch pulled off his woolly cap and let his hair fall around his shoulders.

“I know you have fun on stage, but sometimes I wonder if you should stop,” Izo said softly, playing with Thatch’s hair.

Thatch hummed. “I have to admit, my hips aren’t what they used to be. You just can’t hear the squeaking over the music.”

Izo laughed.

“I just hope that if I quit,” Thatch continued, “that you’re still willing to guard my body.”

“There’s not a body I’d rather guard,” Izo whispered before pulling him into a kiss.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christmas ficlet for MyLadyDay

Snow kept falling down, and Izo’s windscreen wipers were working overtime to make sure he could see a little. The road he was driving on didn’t have any lampposts, so it was completely dark around him, and no salt was sprinkled because hardly anyone ever drove here. Izo only took this road when he was going to visit his family, but because of the weather and the layer of snow that was already lying on the ground, he had to drive carefully.

Suddenly, he saw a car at the side of the road, emergency lights on. Someone hastily scrambled out of the car and started waving his arms when Izo approached.

Izo slowed down even more until he has stopped next to the parked car. The man who had been waving walked over to the door on the driver’s side, and Izo opened his window. The man looked like he was cold, his cheeks flushed and earmuffs on his head. His hair, put up in a pompadour style, was covered in snow in the short time he was outside.

“Hi,” he greeted Izo, a sheepish smile on his face, “you wouldn’t happen to be a mechanic, would you?”

“I would not,” Izo replied, but when the man’s face fell, he hastily added, “but I do know a thing or two about cars. What seems to be the problem?”

“Well, it doesn’t… start,” the man said sheepishly. He obviously didn’t know much about cars. “My phone doesn’t have any bars, so I can’t call for help either.”

“I can take a look if you like,” Izo offered.

The man’s face brightened, but then he seemed to remember something. “But wait! It’s Christmas Eve. You’re probably headed to your family.”

“They won’t mind if I’m a little late,” Izo assured him. As the man stepped back from the window, Izo parked his car in front of the other and fetched his coat as he stepped out of the car.

“Thank you for helping me out,” the man said and held out his hand. “I’m Thatch.”

“Izo,” Izo introduced himself. “And it’s not a problem. Though I can’t guarantee that I can fix the problem, even if I can locate it.”

“The attempt is much appreciated, “ Thatch said.

Izo popped open the hood. “Not many people take this road,” he said as he started to look for the problem. “I don’t think it even leads to anything but my family home.”

“That explains why I didn’t see anyone for over an hour.” Thatch sighed. “But yeah, I realised just before my car stopped that I had taken a wrong turn. Unfortunately, by then it started snowing and I couldn’t go back.”

“Where are you headed? Family?”

“Nah,” Thatch said. “I don’t have family.”

Izo straightened and turned to him. “Friends then?”

“My friends are with their own families. I was heading for the main office to pick up something, but I’ve never been there before.” There was that sheepish look again. Izo had to admit Thatch looked adorable. Still, his story was kind of sad.

“You’re working on Christmas Eve?” Izo asked. “What do you do?”

“Office job. But I was the only one without plans, so I drew the short straw, I guess.”

Izo turned back to the engine, not sure what to say. Though Thatch tried to sound cheerfully, his smile didn’t reach his eyes. The best thing to do was probably making sure that he could be on his way again as soon as possible so he would be back home to do what he liked, instead of being used as a delivery boy.

“You’re without a doubt the prettiest mechanic I’ve ever had.”

Startled and surprised, Izo hit his head against the hood of the car and looked disbelievingly at Thatch. Thatch just grinned and handed him a soup in what appeared to be the cap of a thermos. Izo took it gratefully, though he still hardly could believe Thatch had said that. The soup was delicious, though, and it warmed him up from the inside out. He hadn’t realised how cold he had gotten.

“It tastes amazing,” he said to Thatch.

Thatch grinned brightly. “Thanks, I made it myself.” As he started to explain how he made it, Izo drank another sip, before handing the cup to Thatch and diving back under the hood. Soon enough, he found the problem and turned to Thatch, taking back the soup.

“I know what the problem is, but I don’t have the tools with me to fix it. I think my brother does, though. You can come and wait at my family’s house, if you want.”

Thatch’s face brightened at the prospect of not being alone, which made Izo decide that he was going to make sure that Thatch stayed and spend Christmas with them. It wasn’t the first time that their family was extended spontaneously. He feared that Thatch would decline as not to impose if he asked now, though, so he kept silent when Thatch stepped into the car. Soon enough, Thatch would see that anyone was welcome at the Newgate family.

The drive wasn’t very long, but Izo couldn’t blame Thatch for not knowing that there was a house not too far away.

“Found yourself a stray?” Kingdew greeted Izo as he entered the house carrying the pie he had made at home.

“Thatch has car trouble. Is Rakuyo here yet? I need some tools.”

Kingdew nodded and pointed him to the living room. Izo introduced Thatch to everyone and soon enough, Thatch was dragged into a conversation. Izo greeted and chatted with his brothers for a bit, at least until Thatch had had a few alcoholic beverages so he couldn’t drive anymore. It seemed that Thatch was having too much fun anyway, and it warmed Izo’s heart. He doubted he would be missed if he snuck off to fix Thatch’s car, but he would need the keys.

After locating Rakuyo, Izo tapped on Thatch’s shoulder. As he turned around from his conversation with Ace, Izo held out his hand.

“Keys.”

“Oh, right! My car!” Thatch exclaimed, his face falling. No doubt he thought it was time to leave.

“You’ve drunk too much, so you’re not going anywhere,” Izo said strictly and made an impatient gesture with his hand. “Rakuyo and I are going to fix your car and take it here. You can leave when you’re sober again.”

It was hard not to smile when Thatch looked relieved that he didn’t have to leave. He dug around in his pocket and handed Izo his keys, just as Ace pressed another beer in Thatch’s hand, winking at Izo as to say, “I’ve got this”.

Smiling, Izo turned to leave. Thatch was in good hands, and his family would make sure that Thatch had a great Christmas with friends and family after all.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation from the previous chapter.

The light around him was too bright, even with his eyes closed, as his head pounded in protest at waking up. He may have overdone it last night with the booze.

Slowly, Thatch opened his eyes to find he was lying on an unfamiliar couch in an unfamiliar yet familiar room. There were bodies sprawled out on the floor, but loud snoring sounds assured Thatch that everyone was okay. As the fog in his mind lifted slowly, memories started coming back to him. His car cutting out, a beautiful mechanic pulling over, who then took him to his family home, where… Where Thatch had drunk way too much. That explained the headache.

His beautiful mechanic entered the room, skilfully evading the people draped all around the floor. Nothing betrayed he had been partying all night long, as opposed to how Thatch felt and no doubt looked.

“Good morning,” Izo said with a smile, stepping over Ace’s sleeping body. “Sleep well?”

Thatch nodded and hastily wiped the drool from his face.

Izo chuckled. “Don’t worry, everyone feels like that the first time they partied with our family. It will get a bit less bad.”

Despite the fact that his words meant that Thatch would feel like he was hit by a truck, like he was feeling currently, more often, Thatch couldn’t help the grin from growing on his face. What he remembered from the previous night, it had been great, and Izo’s words were clearly an invitation to come again.

He hadn’t expected to be accepted into the family so easily, at least not until Ace had explained to him that the same thing had happened to him the year before. He also hadn’t expected Izo to take his keys and fix his car, which should be near the house now.

Izo beckoned him to come along, and Thatch followed him into the kitchen. Before he knew it, he had a glass of orange juice pressed into his hand, which he drank gratefully.

As he was drinking, his eye caught a plant hanging over the door and his face brightened as he sneakily moved until he was underneath it while Izo had his back turned to pour some more orange juice.

“Look,” Thatch said innocently as if he just discovered it, “mistletoe.”

Izo turned, chuckling. “I know. You’ve used that same trick about five times last night.”

Thatch’s face fell, but he cheered up again when Izo leaned in to kiss him. When Izo pulled back, he smiled. “Merry Christmas, Thatch.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Birthday fic for MyLadyDay

It had been cold all day, but still the snow caught Izo by surprise. It started with only small flakes, twirling down from the sky, but seemingly by the minute, they grew. The wind picked up too, blowing snow in his eyes, making it even harder to see. There was no shelter nearby, it would only get harder, too, climbing up the mountain.

Pushing further, covering his face with his arm, Izo made his way through the snow, already reaching his ankles. If this kept up, he would be snowed in in no time. Would _it_ find him?

The little light that had managed to make its way through the dark clouds was fading now. Thanks to the snow, Izo made less progress than he had expected, and now he started to wonder if he was far away enough. Would this already been _its_ terrain?

As he walked through an open field without any trees, not at this height. There were only some bushes, and none that would provide shelter. The only choice he had was to go on and hope for the best.

Like a gift from heaven, a small wooden hut appeared in the distance. With the little light present, Izo pushed through until he reached the door, too relieved to wonder why it would be here. Surely, _it_ would live in a cave, rather than a cabin?

Inside it was even darker, and the wind blew snow inside, making it hard to close the door again. Once he managed, he heaved a sigh of relief to leave the noise of the storm outside.

“Hi there.”

Izo let out a yelp, pressing his back against the door. “W-who said that?!”

“I did,” the male voice said from somewhere in the room. “I’m Thatch.”

The voice sounded friendly enough, but it was too dark in the cabin to distinguish anything. “Why are you here?” Izo asked hesitantly.

“Same reason as you, I image. Seeking shelter from the storm. Say, I am trying to make a fire. You wouldn’t happen to have some twigs on you, would you?” Thatch asked.

“Do I look like someone who carries twigs around?” Izo snapped.

It was silent for a moment. “I wouldn’t know,” Thatch then deadpanned.

That was fairly obvious, and Izo resisted the urge to facepalm. “I don’t have twigs,” he finally said. “I may have a strip of cloth that could help with the kindling. If any part of me is still dry, that is,” he added bitterly.

“That would be great!” Thatch said, sounding genuinely excited. “Get over here.”

“Where are you?”

“Straight ahead from the door, there is a fireplace here. Just follow my voice.”

That was easier said than done. Izo lowered himself on his hands and knees and crawled forward, stretching his hand out to make sure he didn’t collide with anything. His fingers touched something warm and soft.

“Yeah, that’s my eye you’re poking right now,” Thatch said, though he didn’t sound mad.

Instead of pulling back, Izo used the opportunity to try to feel what his new companion looked like. Going up, he felt an eyebrow and as he moved to the side, rugged skin, perhaps a scar. It felt crescent shaped, circling his eye. Moving across his face, Izo felt his nose, lips and on his chin a goatee.

“You done?” Thatch asked, amused. “I’d like to get the fire started before we freeze to death.”

“Excuse me for wanting to know who I’m locked in with,” Izo said with a snort.

Thatch hummed, and suddenly Izo’s cheeks found themselves between the fingers of a large hand, smushing his face.

“Is this necessary?” he asked, annoyed.

“No, but it is funny.” Thatch laughed and squeezed his fingers some more.

Izo slapped his hand away. “Didn’t you say something about hurrying up before we freeze to death?”

“Right. Do you have the cloth?”

Izo was completely drenched, but underneath his jacket there might be a dry spot, but he would have to partly undress. He hesitated.

“You know I can’t see you, right?” Thatch said, as if guessing Izo’s thoughts.

“Yet,” Izo retorted. “Once the fire is started, you can.”

“Yes, I’m looking forward to that. Hey, if it helps, I’m taking off my pants too.”

“That’s not nece-” Izo started, but he already heard the rustling of clothes, and he sighed, slowly starting to undress himself.

“It’s better to take them off anyway, since they’re drenched,” Thatch said cheerfully. “And it makes it easier to share our body heat.”

Izo narrowed his eyes. “If I knew where your face was, I’d slap you.”

“Hey, we’re trying to survive here. It’s not the time to be a prude.”

 “I’m not a prude,” Izo replied indignantly, finally finding a piece of clothing that was only a little damp. Using a knife he found in his pocket, he cut off a piece and held it out in the direction Thatch was sitting. “Here.”

It took a moment, but then Thatch’s hand brushed past his as he took the cloth from Izo. “Thanks. I hope this works, the matches are a bit damp too.”

Izo heard Thatch rummaging around, and a match being struck along a matchbox. There was a hiss, a curse, then another match being struck. This one caught on fire, and Izo could finally see Thatch’s face. As he had guessed, Thatch had a goatee and a scar around his left eye. He certainly wasn’t unpleasant to look at.

It was only then that he noticed Thatch was completely naked.

Thatch studied him as intently as the other way around, and he almost forgot to kindle a fire. Fortunately, the piece of cloth caught on fire, and Thatch put it between the stacked blocks of wood. Gently, he blew on the glowing wood, until the fire started.

Now that the room was slightly heated, Izo realised how cold he was, and he shivered, but he didn’t dare to turn towards the fire, afraid of seeing Thatch’s naked butt waving in his face.

“Why are you still dressed?” Thatch asked.

“Why aren’t you?” Izo snapped.

“I told you, it’s best to take them off, not to catch a cold. I thought you weren’t a prude,” Thatch added, amusement clear in his voice.

“I’m not, but I do have a sense of decency.” Still, Thatch did have a point. His soaked clothes weren’t doing him any favours. Looking around in the growing light of the fire, Izo was pleased to locate some blankets. Handing one to Thatch without looking, afraid of seeing something he could never unsee, Izo wrapped himself in a blanket before taking of the rest of his clothes. He made a face when he accidentally sniffed the blanket. “Smells like something died in here.”

“At least it’s warm,” Thatch said with a smile. “So why are you stuck here in the middle of a snowstorm?” he asked when Izo sat down next to him.

Izo stared in the fire. “We all have our sob story, don’t we? So let’s drop it.” Now that he was starting to warm up, the scar on his back was starting to hurt again.

Rather than prying, Thatch also turned towards the fire, wrapping his arms around his knees as he leaned on them with his chin. “I guess we do.”

There was no real road through the mountain, no real reason for him to be here, especially in this weather. Not unless he was here for the same reason as Izo was.

Without warning, he rose, pulling the blanket off Thatch.

“Oi, I was just starting to get warm!” Thatch said, indignantly as he wrapped his arms about himself.

Ignoring him, Izo pulled away his arms, searching his body until he found the brand. Letting go of Thatch’s wrists, he signed, turning to show his own. “You’re here for _it_ too, aren’t you?” he asked softly, before adding grimly, “As its lunch.”

“Or dinner,” Thatch said wryly. “Personally, I’d prefer that, don’t you?”

Izo laughed humourlessly. “So how were you picked? Did you commit a crime?”

“Nah.” Thatch wrapped himself in his blanket again, staring at the fire. “I just drew the short straw. You?”

“I’m just the weird guy.”

“You don’t seem so weird to me,” Thatch said with a shrug.

Izo let out a laugh. “Imagine how normal the rest of the village is. But I didn’t know there were other places with the same custom.”

Thatch shrugged. “Me neither. But I guess it works, since there haven’t been kidnappings in a long time.”

“Yeah.” Izo sat down against Thatch. “So at least it’s for a good cause.”

“And, you know,” Thatch said, “It’s nice not to have to face the abominable snowman alone. Maybe we even stand a chance.”

“I don’t think so,” Izo said with a smile. “But when we get eaten, I’ll try to let you be dinner.”

* * *

The storm had calmed down when Izo woke up, curled up against Thatch, and some light shone in from the outside. The fire had died out long ago, but underneath two blankets and against Thatch’s body, it wasn’t unbearably cold.

Snow crunched outside, like someone stepping on it, and Izo shot up, the blanket falling off him.

Thatch groaned softly, opening his eyes. “Come lie down again. It’s cold.”

Izo shushed him, and when Thatch opened his mouth to ask why, Izo covered it with his hand.

The crunching of snow became louder, and they could hear a scraping sound, like someone was digging.

“Is that _it_?” Thatch asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “Is this it?”

The scraping sound continued, and Izo took Thatch’s hand, squeezing it without taking his eyes off the door.

The scraping stopped as someone tried the doorknob. It was frozen stuck, and Izo heaved a sigh of relief, when suddenly there was a hard pound against the door. Someone was desperately trying to get in.

Izo looked around, but there was nothing that could serve as a weapon in the cabin. He hadn’t been allowed to take as much as a hunting knife when he was sent up the mountain as a sacrifice.

Thatch looked at him, squeezing his hand almost to a pulp as they both watched what was going to happen.

The door gave in, swinging open, and a furry creature tumbled in, as big as a man. As it scrambled on its feet, Izo saw that it was, in fact, a man, dressed in furry, warm clothes. Taking off his hood, revealing his blond hair, he smiled as he saw Thatch and Izo, still frozen on the spot.

“There you are,” he said. “I’m glad you found this place to hide, with last night’s storm and all.”

Thatch and Izo both stared at him for a while, until Izo finally managed to ask, “Who are you?”

“Me?” the man asked, “I’m Marco. I was where you are now a few years ago.”

That’s why he looked familiar. “Marco?” Izo repeated.

“Do you know him?” Thatch asked.

“Yeah, he is from my village. But... You were supposed to be dead,” he said to Marco, almost accusingly. “You were supposed to be a sacrifice. Didn’t the abominable snowman find you? How did you survive?”

“Ah, yes. The abominable snowman, also known as Whitebeard,” Marco said, and smiled fondly. “But I just like to call him Pops.”


End file.
